


Dewdrop

by ReesieReads



Series: Ducktales - Separated AU [3]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Babies, Broken Families, Childhood, Della Duck is a Hallucination, Dewey Duck Had Dermatilliomania, Dewey Duck Has ADHD, Donald Duck Needs a Hug, Dyslexic Dewey Duck, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions Fethry Duck, Mentions Gladstone Gander, Mentions Huey Duck, Mentions Louie Duck (by unintentional dead name), Mentions Scrooge McDuck, Parent Donald Duck, Parenthood, Webby Vanderquack Has ADHD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27716897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReesieReads/pseuds/ReesieReads
Summary: Della disappears with the Spear of Selene, and in her wake leaves a request for each of her children to be left to her cousins and brother.This is the story of Donald raising Dewey and all the challenges that came with it.(Tags will likely change over time)
Relationships: Bentina Beakley & Donald Duck, Bentina Beakley & Webby Vanderquack, Dewey Duck & Donald Duck, Dewey Duck & Webby Vanderquack, Donald Duck & Della Duck, Donald Duck & Webby Vanderquack
Series: Ducktales - Separated AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024051
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	1. Numb And Out Of It!

_ ‘You need to go buy that boat’ _

He’s been thinking that very thought to himself for the past thirty minutes, staring through the window and trying to will himself to get up. A whine came from across the room, Dewey had woken up as soon as Fethry took Huey away. Donald didn’t have the energy to get up when he heard the baby start to fuss.

In fact, after all the anger he had felt right after Della… left had drained away, all Donald felt was  _ tired.  _ In fact the closest thing he’s gotten to feeling is when talking to Gladstone, and even then Donald really can’t say if the almost-tears were for his sister or himself.

He thinks he should be upset.

Tears don’t come though, nor does the overwhelming sadness one would expect after losing a loved one. Instead, Donald just feels  _ empty,  _ like he’s outside of himself, watching from the outside as he goes through the motions. Della had been his twin, his other half, and without her Donald felt lost. He  _ needed  _ her, and she was nowhere to be found.

After Dewey let out a particularly loud cry, Donald finally forced himself to get up and grab the baby. He feels detached, like he isn’t really the one holding a small infant, like he isn’t the  _ caretaker  _ of the child.  _ ‘It just hasn’t hit me yet,’  _ Donald assures himself,  _ ‘I’ll be fine soon.’ _

He highly doubts he’ll ever be fine again, considering his sister and two of her children are gone.

Donald isn’t even going to question if he’ll see Ellie or Huey again, he knows the answer already. Gladstone has never gotten along with him, and Fethry probably resents him now for dropping a child into his arms when he’s already dealing with so much.

There’s a knock at the door, or he thinks there is anyway, he isn’t really sure what’s going on anymore. Either way, he opens the door, jumping back when an excited Webby races into the room. The toddler brings a smile to Donald’s face as she races around looking at different things.

“Hello Donald,” Mrs.Beakley greeted softly, her usually intimidating expression replaced with one of sympathy, “do you need any help?”

He wants to say yes, to ask her if he’ll ever feel normal again, if things will be  _ okay.  _ Instead he says, “I’m okay Mrs.B, it’s not too much stuff to move to the car, and then I’m going to buy a houseboat for me and Dewey.”

The ex-spy nods curtly, but Donald doesn’t miss the worry in her gaze. He  _ would  _ be fine though, he didn’t have a choice. Dewey relied on him now, and he would have to deliver.

“At least let me help you with moving the objects,” she insists, “Scrooge will be coming downstairs eventually, and I don’t want a repeat of Yesterday.”

Donald winces, but nods in agreement, watching her leave with a sigh. Webby was sitting on the floor now, playing with one of the triplet’s old toys. It’s only a rattle, so Donald doesn’t worry about it. 

Leaving the toddler to her own devices, he sits down (on  _ his  _ bed) with Dewey. The boy is only looking around for the moment with wide green eyes, he’s too young to do anything else for now. It occurs to Donald how  _ Della  _ should be doing this, sitting here with  _ all  _ her children. The thought sours his brief good mood.

“I won’t  _ ever _ let anything happen to you,” Donald vows to the small child in his arms. Dewey just laughs.

Webby tugs at his pant leg, looking up at him with large blue eyes, “‘Onal? I ‘ungry.”

Donald hadn’t known Webby very long, only a year or so. She had been about one when he had gotten out of the Navy, and he had met her while Della toured him around the Manor (despite the fact that he had lived there for most of his life). The toddler had dubbed him ‘Onal’ as soon as she heard his name.

The memory feels bittersweet now, painful even, like a knife digging into his chest. Webby shouldn’t have been sitting here asking him for food, she should have been asking ‘Ella’ about the triplets in her broken baby speech. Della had always liked Webby.

“Your Grandma will be back soon Webs,” Donald muttered, “she’ll feed you then.”

The little girl gasped, looking around suddenly, “where ‘Ella? Where Ellie and Hue?”

Donald inhaled sharply, the knife digging deeper now. He knew Webby didn’t know any better, she was only two, things like this were too complicated for her to understand. That doesn’t mean the question didn’t hurt to hear though, and his heart hurts imagining Dewey asking the same thing when he’s older.

“It’s… complicated,” Donald says, though his mind hisses  _ ‘it shouldn’t be’  _ “Della, Ellie, and Huey are on a little trip right now okay? Dewey and I will be gone for a little bit too.”

The toddler’s lip wobbles, “you’ll be back right?”

“Of course we will,” he lies, stomach churning as he does so, “everyone will be back soon okay?”

Webby brightens immediately, hugging his leg, “okay ‘Onal!”

Donald had never been so grateful for Beakley as she walks into the room and peels the toddler from his leg. “Everything is in your car now, Dewey  _ and  _ Ellie’s things.”

If he had enough energy, he would have hugged her. The idea of Scrooge tossing all of Ellie’s things once he left had been plaguing him for hours. Donald knew it didn’t serve a purpose when Gladstone was taking care of her, but Donald didn’t want to get rid of the furniture Della had bought for the triplets. It felt  _ wrong.  _

“Thanks Mrs. B,” he hummed, starting to make his way to the door.

“Donald,” the woman cut in, sounding unsure, “you know you can.. always call me right? I know you want nothing to do with Scrooge, but I’ll always be willing to help you.”

“I know.”


	2. The Boat Of Astrid!

The drive to the boat isn’t pleasant.

Thanks to his awful luck, Donald hits every pot hole possible on the way, along with every red light or piece of trash. Little Dewey, unable to sleep thanks to all of the bumps, gets (rightfully) upset, and starts screaming. Unable to do anything about it though, Donald just has to suffer.

Screeching to a stop as yet  _ another  _ red light turns right before he gets through, Donald grits his teeth. He wanted to curse, to throw one of his typical ‘tantrums’ but he didn’t want to do it with Dewey in the car. Opting to slam his forehead into the top of the steering wheel, Donald let out a  _ long  _ sigh.

_ ‘Is this worth it?’  _ He thought to himself,  _ ‘is leaving really what’s best for Dewey? For me? Scrooge could take care of us and-‘ _

_ “No,”  _ Donald growled out loud, startling a crying Dewey into momentary silence, “Scrooge is the reason Della is gone. I can take care of myself, and I can take care of Dewey. I don’t need that old capitalist, grouchy, cheap, as-“

A long horn sounded behind him, and Donald looked up, not all that shocked to see the light finally green. He sped forward, pointedly ignoring the finger flipped in his direction.

“I can do this.”

He wasn’t sure who he was telling, Dewey or himself.

-

When he finally got to the old parking lot the boat was being sold at, it was already noon, the sun shining brightly despite the heavy clouds in front of it. Dewey had screamed himself to exhaustion, now snoring away in his car seat. Donald swore to get the kid a new toy when he could, to make up for the rough drive.

Adjusting his hat, Donald quickly got out of his old station wagon. He hadn’t parked far from the boat (he didn’t want Dewey out of his sight), so he could see the large white structure sitting on the trailer of a shiny red truck. Soon, if he was fortunate (not lucky, Donald was  _ never  _ lucky), it would be his.

“Ya’ buyin’?” 

Jumping, Donald turned to see a young teen leaning against the old chain link fence. She had darker skin, with striking blue eyes and navy wavy hair. He didn’t miss the few piercings on her face or cigarette either, all things that screamed troublemaker.

Della would have liked her.

“Who-“

“Astrid,” The girl said flatly, “I’m sellin’ the boat fer’ my dad if ya’ lookin’ ta’ buy it.”

As grungey as she looked (it reminded Donald of when he was a kid), Astrid also had a distinct country accent. He wouldn’t be surprised if she came from the same area as Grandma Duck’s old neighborhood, maybe she had even met Fethry and them out there.

“It’s two hundred right?” He asked, leaning on the side of his car out of exhaustion, “that’s what the ad said.”

Astrid nodded, tossing her cigarette to the ground before stubbing it out with her boot, “ya’ that’s what the ol’ piece a’ junks worth. I’ll ‘tach the trailer ta’ ya’ car for another fifty though.”

Donald pulled two hundred and fifty dollars from his wallet, ignoring the voice in his mind screaming that he needed to save the money. As soon as she placed the money into her flannel pocket Astrid got to work, heading over to her truck to detach the trailer.

Using the time to his advantage, Donald pulled the station wagon out so Astrid could attach the trailer, as well as carefully pulling Dewey’s car seat out of the back seat. It wasn’t truly necessary, but Donald didn’t want to take any chance of the kid getting hurt.

Astrid glanced at him, looking down at Dewey as she said, “cute kid, he yours?”

“My sister’s actually,” Donald said, his stomach clenching as he did so, “she… left the other day so I’m looking after him now.”

The teen frowned softly, but rather than giving him a look of pity she simply nodded in understanding, “I get that. My Ma’ bounced too, when my brother was born. I don’t ‘member much ‘bout her though, since I was only two. My Pa’ stepped in, I don’t know what I woulda’ done without him…”

Suddenly, Donald was reminded heavily of himself when he was Astrid’s age. He had been living with Scrooge for a few months by then, his parents having died in their accident and leaving Della and him in their old uncle’s care. He had been so broken then, a shell of himself really. Della had tried to help, but she was always the kind to avoid heavy things rather than dwell on them. She only got more adventurous, while Donald had thrown himself into his music and holed himself up in his room.

It was no wonder Della was Scrooge’s favorite.

“My point,” Astrid said, “is that the kid’s lucky ta’ have ya’. Yer’ a good person fer’ takin’ him in.”

“Of course I did,” Donald muttered, more to himself then Astrid, “he’s my nephew.”

They didn’t talk much after that, Donald keeping an eye on a still-sleeping Dewey while Astrid worked.

-

After saying goodbye to Astrid, Donald pulled out of the old parking lot and started for the pier in lower Duckburg. As far as he knew boats were free to stay there as long as they paid a fee every month, and Donald figured the pier fees had to be cheaper than apartment rent.

Dewey had woken up when Donald put his car seat back into the car, but after being given his blanket the baby had stayed relatively silent. He was bound to get hungry eventually though, and Donald was just hoping he could get to the pier and sort out the whole boat situation before that happened.

It occurred to him, as he stared out at the boat trailing behind them, that he hadn’t been on a boat since he had gotten back from the Navy. It wasn’t that he had been  _ avoiding  _ the water, and Donald knew he still loved the ocean just as much as Della did the sky, but the idea of being on a boat… it made him  _ nervous. _

_ ‘Deal with it,’  _ He thought to himself,  _ ‘you’re out of options, and you already bought the boat.” _

Donald wonders how Ellie and Huey are doing under the care of his cousins. Fethry no doubt had it handled, having his whole family for help and a large house to raise the kid in. Gladstone while incompetent (it had been  _ hard  _ to hand Ellie to him), did have enough money to support a child and give her everything she could ever want.

Those kids would (hopefully) be fine.

Dewey was another story however, and Donald knew that was on him. As much as he wanted to be a good brother, he knew he wasn’t in a place financially  _ or  _ mentally to take care of a child. Dewey would need attention, and care, and love, and space to grow. The most Donald could offer him was a crappy houseboat, little to no money, and an infinite amount of bad luck.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit Donnie.”

Donald nearly crashed the car, feet pressing down on the gas pedal by accident. When he did come to a stop though, his grip on the steering wheel was so tight his knuckles were turning white. He  _ knew  _ that voice, he had heard it screaming just last night.

“Go away,” Donald hissed, “you're not real.”

“No,” Fake-Della agreed, “but I’m a pretty cool hallucination aren’t I?”

  
  



End file.
